Page 100 of Conviction
“Thank you. Let’s make a baby.”
“We did, it’s still cooking inside me.”
“Well, let’s practise so we know what we’re doing when we make the next one.”
So, right there, right then. With Ed serenading us, we practice.
“Iswear to God ifyou rub my back one more time I will chop off your fucking hands and beat you with them,” she growls at me through gritted teeth.
“No you won’t.”
“Yes. I. Will.”
“I love you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No. I. Don’t. This is all your fault. I didn’t sign up for this.”
I reach out to rub her shoulders but move my hand back to hold hers when she gives methelook.
I hate seeing her in pain like this. I’m torn between being pissed off and admiring her stubbornness and determination.
“How we doing?” the midwife Sian asks, as she breezes back in.
Meebs gives herthelooktoo.
“Like I’m trying to pull my top lip over my head, but apart from that, fine. Thank you for asking.”
“Meebs,” I warn her.
“What?” She glares at me.
“My vag is going to be ruined after this. Three kids, Con. Three. It’s just never going to be the same.” She grips my hand as another contraction takes hold.
She’s silent and focused all the way through it. Just panting and blowing and I love her so fucking much.
“Your vag is perfect. You’ve had two caesareans, Meebs, so stop being a drama queen. Your vag is fine.”
Sian pops her head up from between Meebs’ legs. I have to look away when they examine her. I know it’s medical and has to be done, but I get this angry knot in my chest and belly when someone touches what’s mine. Irrational I know, but it is what it is.
Sian pulls off her gloves, disposes of them, then turns and faces us.
“Okay Nina, here’s the thing. You’ve been here for five hours now.”
“Not through choice,” Meebs interrupts her.
Sian lets out a long sigh, her patience wearing thin. Meebs wanted a home birth, the doctors said no because our boys had to be delivered by emergency C-section. Once they explained the complications that could arise, I said no. Hence the anger, and the look that I’m continually getting from my wife.
“We’ve let you go an hour longer than we normally would, but you’ve made no progress. You’re still only around three centimetres dilated, and the baby is starting to show signs of distress. I’m gonna call the doctor down and let them discuss your options with you.”
She turns and leaves. Meebs looks up at me, and I know what’s coming.
She bursts into tears.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so crap at this.”
